


What We Need In This World Is Some Love

by psychoglambert



Category: Adam Lambert - Fandom, Tommy Joe Ratliff - Fandom
Genre: Adam - Freeform, Dogs, Erotic, Gay, Gay Love, Gay Sex, Hot, Joe - Freeform, Lambert - Freeform, Love, M/M, Music, Ratliff, Sex, Steamy, Supernatural - Freeform, Tommy - Freeform, Werewolves
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-04-12
Updated: 2014-04-12
Packaged: 2018-01-19 01:17:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,798
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1449922
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/psychoglambert/pseuds/psychoglambert





	What We Need In This World Is Some Love

Title: What We Need In This World Is Some Love  
Chapter: 2  
Author: psychoglambert  
Summary:  
Rating: MA18+  
Pairing: Tommy Joe Ratliff/Adam Lambert  
Author's note: The fanfiction "You Lack Integration And A Cheap Pursuit" inspired me to write this story. Thank you, whoever wrote it. You deserve to be praised.  
Note: Some of the sexual practices depicted in this work of fiction may be inappropriate to some readers. Viewer discretion is advised.  
Disclaimer: This is a non-profit non-commercial work of fiction using the names and likenesses of real individuals. This fictional story is not intended to imply that the events here in actually occurred. Or that the attitudes or behaviors described are engaged in or condoned by the real person's whose names are used without permission. The author intends no offense to anyone. The events appearing in the following text are products entirely of the author's imagination and are not meant to be in any way taken as having actually happened. The author owns none of the characters.

Chapter 2  
"You're not even sick!" Tommy says, disgusted. He was working at his job in the local music store when Mike the mister I-don't-need-to-attend-the-first-day-of-school walked in.  
"Tommy, I thought you knew that was just an excuse." Mike says, taking out a cheap cigarette and lighting up.  
Tommy rolls his eyes. "How many times have I told you that you can't smoke in here?"  
Mike shrugs. "Dunno."  
"Idiot." Tommy shoves a music book into it's holder on the shelve, accidently making a rip on the cover when it meets the plastic shelving. Shit. Oh well. He'll just blame it on some customer.  
"When you coming over?" Mike asks, picking up a guitar pick off the counter and sticking it in his pocket.  
"Dude, put that back. It's Dave-the-manager's." Tommy sighs. He has to watch Mike like a hawk around here to make sure he doesn't steal what Dave-the-manager or Dave-not-the-manager would notice.  
"Oops. My bad." Mike puts the pick back on the counter, fishing one out of the clear plastic case instead.  
"I can come over after I'm done with my shift." Tommy says, shaking up the case of guitar picks.  
"You need strings, man?" Mike asks, eyeing up the display of strings.  
"I can handle it myself, thanks." Tommy rolls his eyes.  
"Well, be over quick. I gotta go meet my bro."  
Mike's 'bro' is actually his code word for his dealer. Tommy waves to him as he walks out the store.  
Tommy finishes stocking the store, then takes an acoustic and starts strumming some chords. He can't get the image of the wolf out of his head, those striking eyes and fur.  
^V^  
Tommy takes a deep hit off the joint, closing his eyes.  
"Isn't this amazing shit?" Mike asks.  
They are over at Mike's, laying down on his bed smoking the pot Mike just bought.  
"Yeah," Tommy mutters, breathing out. "I got a funny feeling about that wolf that I saw today."  
Mike barks out a laugh. "Why, you think you hurt his feelings by driving away?"  
"No, it's just...those eyes. They weren't...wolfy. They were more like a human's." Tommy throws an arm over his face, blocking out the light.  
"Well, dude, I hate to be a party crasher, but my 'rents are gonna be home anytime soon, and I gotta air out this place." Mike rubs out the joint on an ashtray by his bedside.  
Tommy gets up, pulling on his coats. "I gotta get going."  
"'Kay. Bye, Tommy."  
"Bye," Tommy says, walking out. He exits Mike's house, tucking his head down and heading home. He didn't take his car because he knew that he'd reek of pot, and then his car would. And if his mom smelled that, she'd kill him.  
As Tommy is walking along the darkened road, he notices headlights coming from behind him. They advance, then Tommy sees the car gradually come up even with him. The vehicle slows, keeping along with Tommy's pace.  
Shit. He should have never walked home. It's probably some serial killer about to stop the car, jump out, grab him, and bind him up, eventually killing him. Like Jeffery Dahmer. I watch way too many horror movies. But that would be kinda cool, somebody copying Jeff's handiwork. I could probably do that, cut up the bodies and feed the pieces to the alley cats. Whoa. Snap out of it, Tommy!  
The car keeps pace with Tommy, going faster when Tommy starts into a jogging pace, then slower when he returns at a walking pace.  
He sees the window roll down, and the guy who was outside the school pokes his head out. "Hey, man. You need a ride?"  
Tommy freezes. He was taught to never get into a stranger's car. But does it count if the stranger is insanely hot? Tommy doesn't think so. "Yeah," Tommy answers.  
He walks around to the passenger's side of the shiny black vehicle, opening up the door. He climbs in, settling on expensive leather seats. He takes in the man sitting next to him. The striking grey eyes, dark black hair, dyed light brown at the tips, styled into an attractive spikey look. He has thick, dark brown eyebrows, and facial hair above his upper lip. Hairs darken his chin and his jawbone. He is wearing a grey leopard print t-shirt, a leather vest over it, with black jeans and knee-high black lace-up boots with white laces. He's hot.  
"Hey," Tommy says stupidly.  
"Hello. I'm Adam," Adam sticks out his black, fingerless-gloved hand.  
Tommy shakes his hand. "Tommy Joe. Everyone calls me Tommy, though."  
"Well, hello, Tommy. What were you doing walking the streets all alone in the dark?"  
Tommy smiles shyly, hoping Adam can't see the blush creep across his cheeks in the darkness of the car. "I was walking home from my friend's house."  
"I've seen you at school before," Adam says, as if watching him outside his school isn't some creepy stalker-thing to do. Maybe that's just his hobby, watching kids at school. Yeah. Like a pedophile. Stop it, Tommy!  
"Yeah, I saw you there. You live around here?" Tommy asks.  
"Yes, I do. Are you going home?" Adam asks, abruptly changing the subject.  
"Yeah. My house is just a few blocks from here." Tommy pulls out his phone, checking the screen. Mike texted him. See you at school tomorrow?  
"I know." Adam says, then immediately corrects himself. "I... saw you outside while I was driving by."  
Tommy's brain struggles to think up a logical answer to that statement. "Oh," is the best he can manage.  
"So... Tommy. You need a ride to school tomorrow?" Adam asks, glancing over at Tommy.  
"I have my own car, but thanks anyway." Tommy fingers his watch, a little uncomfortable. Maybe he really is a serial-killer pedophile.  
Adam pulls alongside Tommy's driveway. "Here we are. I guess I'll see you tomorrow, okay? I'd like to get to know you better."  
Tommy smiles, trying not to be too freaked out. Yup. Definitely a pedophile. "Okay. Thanks for the ride, man."  
"Anytime, Tommy. Anytime." Adam grins as Tommy steps out of the car and heads up the driveway.  
Tommy unlocks the front door, stepping into the house. He takes off his boots and coat and is greeted by his mother standing in front of him, arms crossed.  
"Who was that giving you a ride home?"  
"Oh, uh, just one of my friends I met at school." Tommy tries shoving past her, but she puts out her arm to stop him. Normally, if it wasn't his mom, he would just shove past her. But it is his mom, and you just don't do that.  
"Your friend at school has a BMW? I find that hard to believe." She looks at Tommy, raising an eyebrow.  
"I guess his parents have lots of money?" It comes out like a question. Shit.  
His mother just looks at him. Then she sighs. "Whatever, Tommy." She walks into the kitchen, back to making dinner.  
Tommy goes up to his room, changing out of his smoke-stinking clothes. All he can think about is where did this sexy creep come from all of a sudden? And why is he so interested in him?  
Tommy lays down on his bed, staring at the ceiling. He zones out, watching the floaters in his eyes swim across his vision. Eventually, his eyes drift shut and he falls asleep.  
^V^  
"TOMMY! DINNER!" His mom's annoying voice jolts Tommy out of the blissful dream he was having about the ginger-haired wolf.  
Tommy yawns, coming down the stairs at breakneck speed. His mother glances up from where she's sitting at the table.  
"One of these days you're going to fall and break your neck," Mom says.  
His father laughs, giving Tommy a one-armed hug. "Hey, son. How was your first day at school?"  
Tommy smiles. "It was fine, except Mike couldn't be there. He was sick."  
"Oh no," his mom says. "With what?"  
Tommy shovels a forkful of mashed potatoes in his mouth. "Cold," he says around a mouthful of potatoes.  
"Tommy," his mom says in a warning voice. "How many times did I tell you about talking with your mouth open when you were little?"  
"Dunno. Like, a hundred?" Tommy says, washing down the mashed potatoes with a large gulp of root beer. "When can I drink real beer?" Tommy asks his dad.  
"When you're of age," he replies, with a no-nonsense tone to his voice.  
His mother takes a sip of her red wine. "Well, I certainly hope Mike is feeling better. That boy is so nice," she says, dabbing her lips with a napkin.  
Tommy shrugs. "He's fine now. I think it was just a little bug."  
"How do you know?" Dad asks.  
"Oh. I went over to Mike's with a box of popcorn for him. Help him feel better." But the pot does it all, Tommy adds silently.  
"I raised a perfect gentleman," his mom says proudly with a pinch on his cheek.  
"Mom!" Tommy says, giving her a look.  
Dad laughs. "So, Tommy. You see any girls you're interested in at school?"  
Tommy shakes his head. "Not really." He's never really discussed girls with his parents before. He's had a couple girlfriends, but it never panned out. Tommy feels that he connects better with men. Sometimes he wonders if he might be gay, but mostly he's just confused.  
His mom gives his dad a look. "Well, what about any boys?"  
"Mother!!" Tommy says. "Will you stop grilling me? Just because I don't have a girlfriend doesn't mean I'm gay!"  
"Okay, sweetie. You don't need to get so hyper." His mom pats Tommy's shoulder, smiling at him.  
Tommy sighs, shoving a huge forkful of meat in his mouth. Moms are so annoying.


End file.
